


Bold

by LearnedFoot



Series: Peter/Tony Ficlets and Drabbles [23]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot
Summary: Maybe it was having a mask that made Peter bold, even though it wasn’t exactly a secret identity.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Peter/Tony Ficlets and Drabbles [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419445
Comments: 19
Kudos: 157
Collections: What Fen Do (Instead of Going Outside), When Death Loves Flamingos





	Bold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cleo (miri_cleo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/gifts).



> <3

Maybe it was having a mask that made Peter bold, even though it wasn’t exactly a secret identity. Tony was the one who brought him along to the fundraiser in the first place—for the PR experience, he’d said, hand lingering near Peter’s neck as he’d straightened his bow tie. Hell, he was the one who’d bought the mask. It was a fucking Spider-Man mask, done up like Mardi Gras. No secrets here.

Maybe the mask was just an excuse. Or maybe it was the three glasses of champagne Peter downed as soon as he stepped into the hall, overwhelmed by the marble arches and reverberated chatter.

Whatever it was, he grabbed Tony’s hand and said, “Let’s dance.”

Only half of Tony’s face was covered by his decorative Iron Man mask (“Why deny the people a face like this?” he’d said, leaning against Peter in the limo, lips almost on his ear). His expression was loud and clear: surprise. But it wasn’t bad surprise, and when Peter tugged, he followed, grinning.

When Peter took the lead, spinning him around the floor with confidence that was _definitely_ thanks to the booze, the grin transformed into a delighted smile.

“My, my, Mr. Parker,” he said, impressed. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

Peter grinned back, doing his best to pretend he didn’t feel like he was in free fall. He started this, might as well keep being bold.

With assurance he definitely didn’t feel, he dropped Tony into a deep dip, leaning forward to whisper, “Yeah, well, I can’t let you have the upper hand all the time, Tony.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. Peter never called him that, not even after Tony had insisted he should. He’d switched in his own head years ago, of course, but it was the name he reserved for fantasies, for gripping himself late at night. He was afraid if he used it out loud, it would somehow reveal too much.

Which was probably why he said it now. Blame it on the mask.

He pulled Tony out of the dip. He meant to keep leading, but as soon as he was upright, Tony dropped his hand from Peter’s shoulder to his hip, squeezing tight.

“My turn,” he said, but instead of leading him around the dance floor, he began to drag him off.

“Um, what?” Peter asked as Tony practically tore through the crowd, arm slipping up to wrap around his waist, keeping him close. “Did I do something wrong?”

Tony didn’t reply, just kept pulling him along until they found a side door. It didn’t look like they were supposed to use it, but Tony shoved it open anyway, pushing Peter through. It led to an empty hallway, dull and institutional, the opposite of the opulence on the other side. It must lead to a maintenance area or something.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter tried again, as Tony locked the door behind them.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tony said, spinning. He placed a hand on Peter’s chest, backing him up until he hit the wall. “I thought it was Tony, now.”

“Um,” Peter said. “Sorry?”

Tony laughed a laugh that went straight to Peter’s dick. “Wasn’t looking for an apology, kid.”

He reached forward, pulling Peter’s mask up, fingers lingering as he went.

“What…um.” Peter licked his lips, heart caught somewhere between stopping and exploding out of his chest. “What are you looking for, then?”

Tony raised his mask and leaned forward, lips so close Peter could practically taste them. His cologne was overwhelming. “For you to take the upper hand again.”

Um. _Um_. That meant what he thought it meant, right? God, it had to mean what he thought it meant. But when he tried to form words, they transformed into nothing but a gush of surprised air.

“Come on, Pete,” Tony encouraged, somehow getting even closer without actually touching. Lower, so soft it was pleading, he added, “Please.”

So Peter closed the space between them, lips barely brushing, just in case, somehow, absurdly, he was reading this wrong. That was apparently all the permission Tony needed to shove him against the wall, bodies flattening together as he turned the kiss into an embrace, a promise, fucking fireworks.

Peter didn’t feel like he had much of an upper hand as Tony’s tongue licked into his mouth, eager and demanding. He was dizzy with want, need, disbelief; it was a miracle he was still standing. But that was okay. He didn’t need the upper hand anymore. Didn’t even want it. This was Tony’s show now, and he was more than happy to be along for the ride.

He’d been bold enough for one night.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is loved <3
> 
> Also, I went completely insane with this exchange and wrote about 20k in a week. Please, _please_ point out the inevitable typos that made it through. I promise I will be grateful, not annoyed.


End file.
